What Remains
by SpaghettiRifle
Summary: AU where Emile and Noble Six never died, leaving them to try and escape the destroyed wasteland of Reach. Rated M for gore, extreme violence and some strong language. First story and I hope you guys enjoy it.
1. Wake up, you aren't done yet

The Spartan blinked his eyes, the light around him was blinding. When his eyes focused, he observed his surroundings; he was slumped against a railing, his visor covered in blood, some his, some not. Emile began to sit up, a sharp pain shooting up and down his abdomen, resonating from his chest. The Spartan III flinched, but grew to his feet anyways. He observed the scene before him; the MAC cannon directly in front of him was totaled, dripping red hot metal even after what seemed like hours, or days. His eyes began towards the sight in the canyon below; a covenant cruiser ripped through the middle. "Crazy bastard did it," Emile found himself saying under his breath. He limped over to the two Zealots he had made his last stand against. One's neck hid the blade of his Kukri, the other revealing a mangled skull, warped by shattering and Shotgun pellets. Grabbing said Shotgun and pulling his blade out of the Zealot's neck and sliding the Kukri into it's respective spot on his battle-hardened armor's sheath, he began down the steps of the facility. Bodies of many high ranking Elites littered the ground, making maneuvering out of the ruined facility a difficult task. Emile vaulted over the railing, finding his boots buried into more gore, likely the result of Noble Team's Lone Wolf. Emile cleared himself of the shipyard, following a trail of dead Covenant leading him to the whereabouts of his teammate. The Spartan's skull visor, now bearing a crack on the right eye, only breaking the skull layer of the helmet and not obscuring his vision, gleamed brightly from the dim sun in the dead sky of a planet on it's last legs.

Six continued his slaughter of the Covenant forces surrounding him, wearing him thin from hours of non-stop combat. His body screamed for a halt, but for the sake of his life, he refused. His armor burned, smashed, and cracked, he continued his assault even despite his inevitable end before him. Six emptied the rest of his clip in his Assault Rifle into the chest of an approaching Ultra, stopping it's approach. Six reaches for his last mag and loads it into his Assault Rifle as another Zealot approached him from behind. Six spins around, smashing the barrel into the surprised Warrior's face, before loading hot metal into the Alien's brain. 15 bullets left. Six turns to engage the two Ultras and General directly to his left. He pops the shield of an Ultra wielding an Energy Sword with what he has left in his clip. He throws the now empty Assault Rifle at the Ultra, making the Alien stumble backwards to recover. The General begins to barrage Six with Concussion rounds as Six charges the concussed Elite, Magnum and Combat Knife drawn their holsters. Six clambers up the side of the Ultra, ceasing the General's advances. Using the Ultra's right leg to push himself up, the Spartan vaults onto the towering soldier's shoulders spinning to have their backs aligned vertically, Six stabs at the base of the Elite's skull with his Combat Knife. As the Elite slumps and begins to fall, Six opens fire with his Magnum at the General, who dives for cover. Six jumps off the Elite's shoulders and onto his feet before he turns to seek his own cover, coming face to face with the final Ultra who had flanked him. The Ultra throws a 3-fingered punch towards the Spartan's visor. Six, grabbing the Ultra's arm, flings the Ultra over his shoulder using the force of the Elite's punch. Six smashes the tip of his blade into the exposed areas of the Elite's faceplate as it lied face up on the ground, earning a large surge of blood covering his already stained armor and an animalistic scream resonating from beneath it's white armored exterior. Not satisfied with his handiwork, Six buries his heel with as much force as he could muster into the hilt of his Knife. Another, larger, splatter fires upward as the downed Elite gurgles and it's arms fall lifeless, relenting from it's failed attempt to protect it's face. Six ducks low to the ground, using the fallen Warrior as his cover. The incoming Concussion Shots hurl Six to his feet as the dead Ultra is thrown to the side, horribly mangled. Six dodges to the left side, a bolt of hot plasma racing against his arm, searing the armored appendage. Flinching, Six dives into a roll underneath another well aimed shot, almost hitting him dead on. Now 5 feet in front of the High ranking Elite, The general shoulders his Concussion Rifle and draws his Energy Sword as Six's grasp on his own blade tightens, dripping with an indeterminable amount of Covenant blood. Six charges the General in his blood lust. He slides under the General's attempt of a stab, coming to a crouch, before launching himself towards the turning Alien's back. The Elite spins around in a slash, cutting the left side of the Spartan's visor, more cracks spidering out from the cut. The Super Soldier transforms his lunge into a tackle, burying the Combat Knife into the General's stomach. They fall over, the General letting out a roar as Six composes himself, beginning to drag the blade across his opponent's armored bowls. The General's retribution falling upon deaf ears, Six exposes the gore and intestines of the Monster, it's blood creating a lake around him as the undersuit is shredded. Six looks up from the General's body, seeing the might of distant Wraiths raining around him.


	2. The Lone Wolf of Noble

Emile pulls his Kukri out of the Minors' skull, blood steadily draining off the Knife. He places the curved Knife into the holster on his shoulder and looks skyward. The Minor Elite and his squad of 3 Grunts weren't a challenge to the veteran Spartan, but the presence of Covenant still on this planet disturbed him. "It's dead, just leave it the fuck alone," Emile mumbled to himself as he continued to follow the trail of dead.  
The edges of Six's vision blacken, signaling a fall to unconsciousness, and ultimately death. He couldn't stop, he wouldn't until he took all of them with him. Using a Grunt he hoisted off the ground as a shield against turret fire, Six sprints toward the 2supnd/sup to last Wraith remaining. The Unggoy's screams fading out against the steady beats of Covenant artillery and turret fire, the Super Human arrives within 10 feet of the Wraith. Without stopping, Six throws the dead Grunt ahead of him, using the dead unit to jump toward. The Wraith turns to the right to avoid being boarded, but Six lands, on the left wing of it. Using a separation in the armor, Six steadies himself as the Officer in the Turret seat focusing his aim on him. Six jumps over an incoming stream of plasma shots, some splashing onto the hull of the Wraith. Six jumps for another separation, using his momentum to bring his full body weight and then some into the kick. His right leg slamming into the head of the Officer, splattering blood and teeth over the Covenant Tank's exterior armor. The Officer, suffering from severe brain damage, slumps, begins foaming from the mouth and convulsing. Unsatisfied, Six delivers another kick into the Elite's head, a crack sounding out from the Elite's neck as it ceases all motion. The Wraith's efforts to shake six off grow more violent, causing Six to fall onto his back and to slide down the front of the Wraith. The Spartan stabs his knife through the armor, sufficiently anchoring him to the Tank. Six pulls himself into a crouch above the Turret, plucking a Plasma Grenade off the Officer's belt below. Six jumps up dangerously close to the Wraith's main gun and begins smashing his fist into the door of the Wraith. The edges begin to crumble as the final punch lands, tearing the door from it's hinges. The Zealot inside began firing into it's attacker's direction, a burst glancing Six's shoulder. The Spartan III primes the grenade, throwing it into the Elite's temple, as Six smashes the door into the Driver's head forcing him down while providing Six protection. The explosion blasts Six ten feet into the air, riding the makeshift shield away from the explosion. Losing his balance, he lands on his back, knocking him into a daze, making him easy pickings for an incoming 5-Elite-team of Zealots and Field Marshals; 3 Zealots, 2 Field Marshal. A Field Marshal sprints over to Six grabbing him by his arm, and drawing their Energy Dagger. Six smashes his armored head into the decorated Warriors un-shielded face, sending small pieces of glass into it's eyes. The Field Marshal recoils, allowing Six to find a piece of twisted Rebar, and to bury it into the Alien's neck. Blood sprinkles out of the wound, peppering the Marshal's surrounding teammates. Six jumps to his feet among the confusion and draws his Combat Knife. The two Zealots charge him simultaneously while the the rest draw their guns. One Zealot slashes upward with his Energy Dagger while the other stabs. Six reacts quickly, redirecting the uppercut into the second Zealot's arm, severing it, the useless limb now hanging on by small connections still remaining in the muscle, blood shooting all over the two combatants, the Energy Dagger sizzling with the wave of purple liquid. Six takes the opportunity to jam his Knife into the Spine of the Zealot, earning him Scream as the Zealot's legs collapse. The fallen Zealots stands to his full height and charges into a tackle, knocking Six and the now disabled Zealot to the ground. Six unsheathes his Knife from the Screaming Elite's back as the One-Armed Zealot stabs at Six, catching him in the side. Six brought his knife to the the elite's chin and punched with his other hand to bury the Knife hilt-deep into the Elite's head, life draining quickly from the Alien. It slumped over, completely covering Six. Using the last of his strength pushed the Elite off him. "This is it," the Hyper Lethal Vector thought to himself. He had lost the rest of his strength on those two Elites. The sky is a brilliant brown, red hanging above dusty clouds, purple lightning ripping its way through them. Suddenly something obscured his view. "Need a hand, Six?"  
Emile was noticing the bodies becoming increasingly fresher as he continued. He checked his M45 before readying himself for combat. He began jogging towards the sound of a close conflict; Needle Rifle and Plasma Rifle rounds ringing throughout the battlefield. Emile found himself behind 2 Field Marshals and a Zealot, with a smirk, Emile held his Shotgun in his left hand, drawing his Kukri In his right. He walked up behind them, jamming the Kukri into the back of a Field Marshals neck, the end of which poking out the Elite's Trachea. His Shotgun blew chunks of what was a Zealot's head showering in various directions. The wounded Field Marshal swiped at Emile with a desperate ferocity. Emile deflected the advancing Marshal's blows with his Shotgun, cutting up the grip, but noting serious. Emile dodges backwards and holsters his Shotgun. The Field marshal charged him, having Emile side step and grab the firmly lodged Rebar inside the Field Marshal's neck. Emile pushed the wounded Elite to the ground using the Rebar as leverage. Emile, now standing above the face-down Marshal begins plunging the Rebar deeper within the wounded Warrior's neck, before tearing it out, a river of blood shooting onto Emile's right boot. Emile disengages the dyeing Alien with a grin, satisfied with his work. He turns to see the dust settling around another group of bodies. Approaching, Emile recognizes the familiar Mark V [B] helmet of his teammate, and extends his hand. "Need a hand, Six?" He asks.


	3. Survivors

Six's eye shot open. Noble 4, Emile had survived? How? Six saw him being impaled, taking his two attackers to the grave with him. The Skull on his visor a constant reminder of this fact, Six grabbed Emile's outstretched hand. "Fancy meeting you here," Emile said, raising Six to his feet. Six looked like shit; dented, scratched, stabbed, slashed, shot, burned, it was hard to come across something something wasn't, his armor stained a dark purple. Six looked at Emile, finally mustering a "Thanks". Emile waved his, "Don't worry about it," in a nonchalant tone. Emile began "We need to get the hell out of here," he paused, surveying the landscape. His eyes set on the horizon in the east. "If I'm not mistaken," his hand gestured to said direction, "There's a UNSC encampment over that way". Six picked up the Needle Rifle and Plasma Rifle laying idly by the corpses of victims of Emile's CQC skills. Six started off in the direction, trailing in front. "Let's go".  
The moons had long since risen into Reach's sky, glowing brightly against the scorched surface and dust of the atmosphere. Just now had the remaining members of Noble Team settled down for the night. They took their place under a 10 foot high overhang. Six gripped his scavenged DMR. Emile had sat down under the overhang. "You sure you want to keep watch, you look like you haven't slept in years," Emile asked behind him. "Yeah," the mostly silent Spartan said, his eyes glued to the moon that hung high in the sky, totally absent from the misery on the ground. Without anymore words, Emile tucked in his head, folded his arms, and began to doze off. Six took his place on a rock and sat under the stars of an unforgiving universe. A small sound shook Six from his trance. He had been staring at the silver orb in the sky for hours. His head snapped to the source of the sound. Emile stood crouched next to his original position. "Can't get anything past you, huh," Emile said making his way towards the rock Six was perched on. Emile sat crouched to Six's right. "Anything?" Emile asked quietly. "Negative," Six answered as if in a robotic fashion. "You don't always have to be a professional, you know," Emile's voice sounded out, catching Six off guard. "No one even knows your name, let alone your personality Six," Emile admitted. Six paused for a moment. "Me neither," Six said, this time catching Emile's attention. "What do you mean?". Six sighed, he never needed information like a name. He had his number; B312. That's all he needed. If he had one, he didn't care what it was. When he became Noble Six, more specifically became attached to his team, he grew closer to his designation. He preferred it to B312, anyway. "I didn't need those. I needed my gun and nothing else," he replied in an ice cold voice. Emile chuckled. "And they called me uptight," Emile said with a smirk. Six turned back to the moon. "Well, if you don't got a name, got a story?". His beginning wasn't so different from every other Spartan. Only when he was pulled out of Beta Company was when everything went to hell. He knew he couldn't talk about it, but seeing as they would probably die on this plane, he shouldn't let his story die with just him. He turned to Emile and began from being pulled from Beta Company. He told him about the countless black ops, assassinations, firefights, his time as his superior's "Personal Grim Reaper". All of it. When he finished the sun had began to rise into the sky. Emile was silent at first but opened with a "I haven't heard you talk for anything longer then a minute," earning an eyeroll from Six, despite the fact that he couldn't see it. Emile's tone morphed from humorous to serious, "We need off this damn rock,"he said while standing from his spot on the ground.  
They had been engaged by this squad of 2 Hunters, 4 Elites and 5 Grunts while walking down a riverbed. The walls of the riverbed held up well against plasma shots from Plasma Rifles, but the Hunters complicated thing. An Elite had peaked over the edge of the bed, prompting Emile to drag it into the bed by it's ankle. As soon as it fell in it ate the cold edge of the Kukri held on his shoulder, blood filling its throat and covering said blade. "Six! 5 o' clock!" Emile said as returned fire over the wall. 4 of the Grunts had congregated, allowing Six to lean on the wall of the bed and punch holes into each of the heads of the flanking underlings. Six checked the ammo counter on his DMR. "3". Six internally cursed before suddenly getting an idea. "Cover me," Six said as he charged toward the corpses of the fallen grunts. He slid to pick up 2 plasma pistols, attaching them to each magnetic holster on his leg. As he turned to return to the trench an Elite Minor stepped in front of him and punched him with the front of his Plasma Rifle. In retaliation Six threw a punch of his own, dazing the Minor. Six threw a kick into the Alien's stomach, and out of instinct the Elite cradled it's stomach. Six grabbed it's head and held it close to his chest so it was looking down, jumped up, put his feet on it's shoulder until a sickening sound of bones of flesh sounded from the Minor's neck. Six jumped off before the Elite fell, turning his attention to the fast approaching ball of green plasma. Dodging it, he then noticed the second Hunter had circled around with one of the remaining Elites and a Grunt and now he was face to face with them. Six fired a single DMR round into the Grunt's skull, sending the contents of which smashing out the other end of it's head. The Elite had aimed up his Plasma Rifle and began firing it into Six''s shield, popping them. Six then held his DMR up as a shield and sprinted towards the Elite, dodging Green bursts of plasma where ever it would appear. As soon as Six was within range, he flipped his DMR to hold it like a bat, and swung it directly into the Elite's head, in turn bursting it's shield. Six then reformed his handle on the weapon and fired a shot directly through the Elite's, blowing a hole through the Alien's head and Purple stained brains flew out both ends. A piece of the frontal lobe lodged itself onto his helmet's visor. He didn't see the Hunter's shield being swung into his stomach as he was lifted off the ground and into the air. Six hit the ground and was left disorientated. He saw the Hunter approaching swinging it's shield arm down. He rolled to the the right of the arm, hopping to his feet with assistance from his arms. The Hunter went for another vertical swing. As soon as the Hunter's arm had landed onto the ground, six grabbed onto the arm and jumped for the hunter's spiky back. Drawing both Plasma Pistols from his thighs, he released the remainder of the charges into the Hunter's neck. It charged it's Cannon, aiming it at his teammate. Without hesitation, Six jammed his fist into the Hunter, dealing the last required blow, covering his armor in a bright fluorescent Orange. Six jumped over the riverbed, Emile quickly following him. "Get ready," Six said drawing his Combat Knife. Six and Emile dodged flying debris and Green Plasma spears. Six then launched his body into a tackle taking the Hunter by surprise. The Hunter toppled over as Six dug his Knife into the creature's exposed abdomen. More bright Orange blood surged out of the open wounds as six stabbed the Creature. Emile was slicing the Hunter's 'head' as the Hunter thrashed violently, it suddenly stopped as Emile cut off the Tank's 'head'. Panting, both Spartan's raised their heads, covered in the same Orange blood, as Emile gave a simple nod.


	4. Down For The Count

The dust settled around Noble Six's feet with each step. A week had passed since Noble Team had regrouped, setting their sights on a distant shipyard. Their hopes lied on the possibility of a remaining serviceable ship, the possibility of which incredibly low. It wouldn't be considered if it weren't the survivors' last option. The dust in the atmosphere began to settle, but not enough for the sky to return to a semi-normal color, perhaps leaving the planet scarred and bleached in a deep red for the rest of time. Emile's visor reflected a bright red, the cracked helmet still sporting Emile's sadistic Skull visor. Said Spartan III, trailing the Hyper Lethal Vector, turns his head, looking at the destroyed Phantom directly to his left, faint rustling echoing from inside of it. Six held up his hand, fist closed, signaling a halt. Both Spartans adopting a crouched stance, Six drawing his Plasma Rifle, Emile mirroring with his Shotgun. They split up, Six circling to the left, Emile, the right. Six arrives to the open side of Phantom first.

The Elites, a squad of 4 Ultras and 3 Grunts. Riko 'Ranom, captain of his Squad sported a red variant of the Ultra armor with gold highlights throughout. Zomi 'Karumee, the female explosives specialist edition to the squad of elites, bore a solid blue variant. Finally, Jag 'Davum, the Spec Ops specialist was clad in the standard issue white and red Ultra armor, believing it was an honor to keep the Ultra's signatures colors. "When will arrive at the Demon's position?" Jag 'Davum spoke up, looking up from his position aboard the Phantom. "Not long now, though from what I've heard," Zomi 'Karumee began, "He's killed at least a thousand". Jag turned his head to face the Elite. "Do you think we'll get him?", Jag asked, with a swift reply following behind him. "Of course we will," Riko 'Ranom said from behind his team mates. "We will prevail against this scum," Riko followed up. "Riko, if a thousand failed, what makes us different? We should rework our strategy instead of charging-", Zomi stated before being cut off by Jag "Yeah, we're outmatched sir, even if we wound it, it'll-", this time his turn to be cut off, Riko stepped toward his team. "We will kill this Demon, and we will bring ourselves glory," the passion radiating off his voice. "WE are different, WE will destroy the beast, We will-", as if on cue, a beam from a Covenant cruiser began it's glassing run, it's beam shredding through the Phantom's hull, Incinerating Zomi and 2 of the Grunts. The blast wave fired the Craft a kilometer off course, sending it into a death spiral into the dusty, dead ground below.

Jag opened his eye first, a piece of shrapnel buried into his left. He immediately turned his head to assess the damage; the Phantom was crushed into the ground, rubble filling the interior from the newly-opened side, covering the corpse of the final Grunt and the unconscious body of his commander. Scrambling to his feet, the Ultra crept over to his commander. He was breathing, but wounded, a gash now covering his breastplate, blood now adorning his red armor. Jag shook him back to reality. "Sir! Wake up!" the panicked Warrior said in between his desperate shakes. Riko's eyes opened slowly to the sight of his subordinate. "What happened?" Riko's voice eventually spoke. "Glassing beam hit us, killed everyone," his voice trailing off, still processing the previous events. Riko 'Ranom sat up, flinching from the large cut in his chest. He returned to his position on the floor. Even though the beams had since passed hours ago, the heat remained on the surface of the Elites began to gather themselves before they heard noise outside.

Jag activated his invisibility field generator as he stepped out of the ship, checking the surroundings. Seeing nothing, he turned to back into the inside of the Phantom, Six dropped off the top of the aircraft, delivering a kick to the top of the Elite's head, revealing the Ultra. Jag's head flew downwards, disorienting him, but he held his footing. He looked up towards the Spartan in time to see an uppercut, again sending backwards toward the entrance of the dropship, breaking one of the Elite's mandibles. The Elite recovered quickly this time, sending a fist of his own into Six's ribs. Jag stabbed a kick towards Six, but the Spartan grabbed it. Six pushed the Ultra into a protruding piece of what was the Phantom's hull, impaling his shoulder, anchoring him to the Purple metal. The Elite sent a fist into the Spartan's stomach, and out of instinct, Six bent over slightly as the Elite pulled himself off the jagged metal. Six stood up, transforming his form into a fighting stance, the Elite striking one of his own. The Ultra approached Six, throwing a left handed jab. Six blocked the punch with his armored gauntlet, ducking down under another swing, grabbing the Elite's legs, and forcing them to the ground. Six brought his knee up to into the chin of the Alien, furthering the Warrior's daze. Six situated his knees onto the arms of the Ultra, disabling him as the Elite kicked at the ground trying to fruitlessly force the Super Soldier off him. The Spartan drew his Knife, stabbing the blade into the Elite's side, blood flying out of the wound and onto the Spartan's gauntlet, Knife, and the ground around them. The act of retribution for the Elite's jab then transformed into a sliding cut, splitting the Ultra's undersuit, and in extension, the flesh underneath. The Elite struggled under the Knife, prompting Six to bury his fist into the face of the Alien with all of his might. Six withdrew his, Knife before plunging it into the same spot, puncturing the Elite's heart. An enormous quantity of blood shot out of the wound, the earlier splatter paling in comparison, as Six tore his knife from the organ. Blood formed a lake around the dying Elite as he let out his last breath, muttering in his native tongue. Six turned to the interior of the Phantom to see Emile pointing the barrel of his Shotgun into the defiant eyes of the crippled commander.

Emile turned to flank what was the perpetrator of the earlier sounds, watching Six climb to the top of the Phantom. Emile readied his Shotgun, disengaging the safety. Emile watched Six drop off the top of the top of the Phantom, delivering a stomp to a cloaked Ultra's head. As Emile leveled his Shotgun with the Ultra's head, Emile was tackled to the ground by a red and gold Ultra, the Spartan firing a shot into the air as he fell. The offending Elite brought his hand down onto the the Spartan's hand, Emile dropping his Shotgun with the impact. He headbutt the Elite, sending blood flying onto the top of his helmet as the Elite recoiled. This gave Emile the room he needed to bring his knees to his chest and push the wounded commander back into the Phantom. Emile jumped to his feet, grabbing his shotgun. Emile fired a shot into the Covenant commander's hand, ripping the flesh from it and warping the bones. Blood escaped the remains of the hand and painted a new purple interior as the Elite roared in pain. "Got you," Emile stated through the blood smeared on his visor. Six entered the Phantom as Elite sat in place, grasping at the hand. Six approached the commander and crouched down. "What now?" Emile asked through the Skull. Six disengaged the data pad from the Elite's hip as he stood up and began to exit the craft. A shot rang out behind him as blood rained down in a purple mist around the two Spartans.

Six examined the data pad he held in his hands as him and Emile gathered around a campfire. Six began decrypting the pad, setting it down to his side with a sigh. The procedure would easily take about an hour. "The shipyard shouldn't be too far," Emile said as he sat on a rock directly across from Noble Six. Six looked up at the Spartan. Emile stoked the fire with a metal rod. They had MRE's but the supplies wouldn't last long, the Spartan realized. Six stared into the flame as Emile began again. "If we haul ass, we should arrive by tomorrow, if my math's right". Six grabbed his Plasma Rifle off his thigh. "I'll take first watch," he stated flatly, facing out into the barren landscape. "Be my guess, but this time, wake me up for my shift," Emile said as he assumed his position leaning up on another nearby rock. Six stood at attention, facing the darkness, preparing for what horrors the night may bring.


	5. Out With The Old

Six's eyes ripped themselves open. The nightmares had been traded for the fresh hell of reality as he shook his head. He looked to his side, the Datapad had finished it's decryption a while ago. He pulled it in front of his face, reading the translated information he learned two things; there was a ship stationed at the base the remnants of Noble team had aimed to go, and that it would be heavily guarded. Six sighed, Emile looking up from his Shotgun in his lap, a distance away. The Skull visored Super Soldier walked toward the walking Spartan. Six showed him the information on the data pad, prompting an "ah shit," from his teammate. They gathered their weapons and supplies and began out towards their desired destination, small camps littered in between Noble Team and their destination.

They had been walking for hours, before arriving at an abandoned camp. A main building surrounded by small setup-buildings used by the UNSC stood in dead silent landscape. Six entered the main building as Emile began checking the small side buildings for Covenant or survivors. Six explored the multi leveled building, finding that it was superior in many ways to common military outposts, rooms littered with corpses, burnt or long since bloodied on the floor. He walked through the empty halls, his metal-booted foot falls echoed through the corridors. Checking each room for an ambush, he walked until he saw a door labeled 'armory'. Without a second thought, Six entered the well lit room. In the center of the room stood a Mjolnir armor station surrounded by shelves of Mark V armor.

Six locked the door behind him, beginning towards the armor station, he removes his helmet. He stepped into the armor rig, each metal arm of the rig disengaging a piece of his heavily damaged armor. He pulled a Mark V [B] helmet off a shelf, outfitting it with an UA armor attachment and a black visor. He pulled two FJ/Para shoulder armor plates off another section of the same shelf, off another shelf came the Tactical/UGPS wrist attachment, another came FJ/Para knee armor, another a Tactical Hard Case utility, and finally a Tactical/Patrol chest armor piece. He loaded them into the machine and climbed into the contraption, the arms springing to life, assembling the new armor onto his black undersuit. The pieces hissed into the under armor, the last of the new, pitch black armor finding their places on his body. He hopped off the machine without his helmet, grabbing it as he disengaged from his position on the armor station. Looking in to the visor reminded him of his first meeting with Noble Team, a day that seemed to have happened years ago. He fitted the helmet onto his head, locking it into the suit with a twist. He looked into a mirror on a wall to his right, admiring his new armor. Six unlocked the heavy metal door and began to leave the room, coming face to face with Emile. They both paused for a second before Emile spoke; "And where the hell did you get that?" pointing an accusing finger at his breastplate. Six jabbed a finger in the direction of the contraption behind him, attracting Emile's line of sight. Six waited outside the door as Emile stepped into the room, hearing the metal machine spring to life.

Emile emerged out of the room, wearing a barely tempered with suit of scratched armor, only replacing a heavily damaged right gauntlet with a UA/Buckler variant gauntlet, the piece of protruding painted a dirty red, reflecting the other sections of Emile's signature armor. Emile had replaced the shattered Skull visor with a new red visor, the skull still present. Six emptied a nearby weapon rack, gathering the weaponry into his arms. He threw Emile a box of shotgun shells, knowing Emile wouldn't rid himself of the high powered Shotgun he carried with him. Emile tucked the small box into his pouch strapped into his thigh. Six strapped an SMG onto his left leg, a Magnum to his right. Six grabbed a DMR and an Assault Rifle, hanging the DMR onto his back's magnetic holster. Six stood up, giving Emile a nod as he began down the stairs of the building. With each level the team scaled down, a loud emitting from the camp outside, Six stopped at the second story window, signaling for Emile to enter the camp outside. Emile loaded the shells into his M45, walking down the last of the stairs. Six holstered his Assault Rifle, trading it for his DMR. Six crouched down, situating himself by a window. Emile kicked open the metal door to the outside, his Shotgun pointed directly into the visor of an ODST. "Clear," Emile said in an annoyed voice. Emile's previous interactions with any non-Spartan infantry are well known, even to the secretive B-312. Six vaulted from the window, landing 7 feet from the small gathered group. A silence fell over the group.


	6. A Bit Different But Together

Jack sighed. His helmet lay to his right, he looked over his team. Their captain, Newt, a blonde who's nickname was born from… Unfortunate circumstances, stood up from the table, realising that their drop deadline was approaching. "10 to drop, team," she said fitting her black helmet onto her head, the red streak over the dome of the helmet shining brilliantly from the overhead light. Dev, a pale brown haired man, sitting to Jack's right tossed Jack's helmet to him. "Hey, hear that? You're gettin' what you want," smirking, Dev put on his helmet, a green stripe standing out from the black surface. Jack grunted in response, causing Blue to chuckle. She loaded a magazine into the silenced Magnum, looking up from her spot on a crate. "Yeah, get ready J, Reach needs it's hero," Blue said, sarcasm lacing her voice. She slid a Magnum over the table's surface towards Jack, he took it and pushed it into his holster. Jack stood up and walked over to the weaponry, pulling a Battle Rifle from it's place on a weapon rack in the far side of the room. He placed it into the rack of his designated pod, sitting down in it as he put on his slick black ODST helmet. His armor stood out from his team's; he wore a variant commonly used by ODST's stationed at Earth, a heavily armored vest and shin guards over a black fire and impact resistant BDU. The armor difference is attributed to his sudden transfer two years ago, he was never issued the standard Navy ODST body armor, though the armor difference never bothered him. Jack's visor shown a dark blue as he lowered the pod doors, watching through the reinforced glass as his team followed suit.

"Spartans? Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Newt said, holstering her Assault Rifle. Jack looked at the Spartans; both clad in black armor, one's gaze sent shivers down his spine, the other sporting an equally chilling skull on his helmet. Newt pulled off her helmet, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, looking at the two black armored Spartans. "One hell of a day, huh," Newt said as Dev pulled off his cracked helmet, the green stripe dirtied and scratched to near invisibility. Six nodded his head turning to Emile who stood in silence, disgust radiating off his body. "I'm Newt, this is Dev and Jack," She said, unaware of Emile's disregard for the ODST's. "Six, Emile," Six said flatly, gesturing to Emile as the Spartan's name left his mouth. Jack pulled off his helmet, his Asian features clean of emotion. His black hair was wet with sweat, but still stood in it's usual messy pompadour style. Jack held his helmet between his hip and arm, holding his Battle rifle in his left. Six scanned the team; they looked tired, bloodied and demoralized. Six let his DMR fall to his side, relenting from his previous battle ready stance. Six's HUD updated to reveal the names of the soldiers. J. Newt, D. Brollinard, and Jack. The absence of a last's surname confused Six, but he shrugged it off. "We're heading to a shipyard couple miles off, could use some support," Emile said to Six's surprise. Six approached the Kukri wielding Spartan, both towering over the ODST's. Said ODST's looked at each other, still processing the appearance of surviving Spartans, and shrugged. Jack placed his blue visored helmet back onto his head, clicking it into the durable body glove beneath his armor, Dev quickly followed, replacing his helmet onto his head, a stream of dried blood running from his forehead to his cheek being obscured. After a hasty readying, the the lone remnants of Noble Team and their new companions in the form of the stranded ODST's began towards the last stretch of distance required to reach their destination.

Six ignored one particularly noisy marine behind him. Dev was asking questions about the Spartan's circumstance, many of the questions being unwelcome and stung at the hearts of the Spartans left behind by the death of their team, though they'd never show it. Except maybe Emile as he turned on his heel, delivering a growl towards the curious ODST, much to Six's surprise and Dev's horror. The ODST stumbled back a bit, but recovered and quietly cursed the Spartan under his breath. Jack was toward the front of the group, closely trailing the Super Soldiers. Jack stopped, getting a feeling of someone or something watching him, his eyes outlined the rocks around them. Six noticed Jack's stop, and grabbed the Assault Rifle off his back, snapping the DMR onto his back. "Take cover!" Newt yelled as a Fuel Rod shot sent Dev a foot into the air. Dev landed back first on the ground, the wind knocked out of him, his Magnum he was holding falling a distance away. Jack grabbed the ODST's collar, pulling the marine into his cover. Dev drew the SMG at his side, pulling it to his chest as he leaned against a rock, his vision blurry and a pounding pain ringing in his head. Jack peaked over his cover, seeing Emile doge underneath an Ultra's energy sword swing, plunging a giant knife into the attacker's ribs, ripping it to behind the Elite's back. A large stream of blood began shooting out, continuously splashing purple blood onto the surrounding terrain and gave the Spartan a demonic purple grin. Jacked scanned the other side of the battlefield as Plasma flew past his head. Six punched a Zealot, shattering it's crooked teeth as blood flew out in random directions. Six leaned back to avoid a wild swing from an Ultra directly behind the wounded Elite. Six twisted his body as he brought a fist into the visor of a Ranger attempting to sneak up behind him. Thick glass and blood splashed out around his fist as he ducked under the Zealot's attempt to grab him from behind. Six grabbed onto the Zealot's abdomen, lifting the Alien off it's feet and threw the Warrior on to the ground, smashing it's head and a crack sounded out from the impact, the Zealot now spread out onto the ground in front of him. The Ultra had circled to Six's left, punching Six's breastplate. Six staggered to the right, turning to face the Elite as he did so. The Ultra swung his fist again, Six blocked it with his armored forearm. Six's hand slid up the Elite's arm, latching itself onto the Ultra's tricep. Six kicked one of the Elite's legs out from under him, knocking the Elite onto it's back. Six placed a metal boot onto the Elite's chest, pushing his foot against the Ultra's body. A snap sounded out from the Elite's right arm as the muscle tore and the bone shattered, the limb falling slack to the ground. The Elite's scream of pure pain rang out, it's remaining arm shooting to the loosely connected limb. As Six threw the arm to the floor, he looked up to see a very angry, blinded, Ranger charge him and the Zealot getting up from it's dazed state on the ground. Six, jumped to the left of the Ranger and swung a fist into the Elite's stomach as it began to pass him. The Elite vomited blood as it began to sink to it's knees, the purple liquid flooding out of the broken helmet's mask, scattered teeth and bile mixed in with the pool. Six swung at the approaching Zealot, who dodged to the right, who in turn fired a fist towards the bottom of Six's abdomen, right above the belt. Six brought his leg up to block the attack, swinging his left fist into the Elite's neck. A choke sounded out of the Zealot throat as he grasped his windpipe. Six jabbed again at the throat of the Elite, feeling the Zealot's throat collapse under the pressure of his fist. The Zealot sunk down, suffocating. Six looked to see the Ranger who tackled him to the ground in a burning rage. As Six fell with the Elite, he drew his Combat Knife. The Elite on top crawled up to Six's chest, and the Ranger began to swing wildly. Six dodged most of his blind swings but a few connected with his shoulder and helmet. Six brought his hands up to the Ranger's knees, pushing the blind Elite off him and into the air. The Elite fell backwards, allowing Six to jump to the Elite's side. Six curbed stomped the Ranger, a wet squelch followed by a large bubble of blood covered Six's entire leg, small specks of which covered his breastplate and visor. Six turned to see the Ultra rise to his feet. Thinking quickly, Six flipped his knife in his hands, throwing the blade into the Elite's eye socket. The Elite backed away, a monstrous scream of pain escaped the Alien. Six sprinted toward the Elite, jumping into the air. He brought his knees to his chest, pushing them out into the Knife's hilt as another beam of blood, flew onto the Spartan's armor. Six fell to the ground, quickly scrambling to his feet afterward, satisfied with his victory as he withdrew his Knife. Six calmly walked over to the choking Zealot and ended it's suffering with a Magnum shot to the head. He holstered his Magnum and grabbed his dropped Assault Rifle, discarded at the beginning of the fist fight, and rejoined the fight. The entire exchange took about 3 minutes as the firefight continued around him.

During Six's scuffle with the Elites, Jack was pinned while Dev recovered. Jack vaulted over his cover after returning fire at a Brute and his 2 Grunts. His previous shots had killed a grunt and had wounded the Brute's leg. Blood poured out of the open wound as pieces of shattered bone fragments shown underneath the pierced armor plating. The ripped muscle pulsated slightly, spewing more blood with each pulse. The Brute saw the approaching ODST, pointing his Spiker up at the marine. Jack slid under the Orange stained needles as the Brute fired desperate shots, now jumping to his feet behind the brute. Jack took aim and began firing multiple rounds into the wounded leg, almost severing it. Blood splashed out from the loose foot, forming a puddle 3 feet wide. Blood collected on the armor and reflected a dark red on the Brute's skin. The Brute fell to the the stub, a bone protruding from the leg buried into the ground was the only thing keeping the Brute upright, cracking under the weight. Jack heard the remaining grunt screaming behind him, he turned to see the orange armored Grunt pulling a Plasma grenade off it's belt. As the bright blue orb left it's hand, Jack ducked, watching the grenade latch itself onto the Brute's shoulder. Jack's eyes widened, as he dove toward the Grunt as the small Covenant squealed in horror of it's actions. Flesh, blood, bone and ripped armor shot out of the explosion, covering the ODST in evaporating blood and flesh, small pieces of destroyed and burned armor scratched the back of his armor. The Grunt turned away from the scene, it's arm raised to the sky, and began to run. Jack rose to his feet and shot a 3-round burst into the fleeing Alien's back. Blue blood shot out of the Grunt's chest as it wheezed, stumbled and fell, miscellaneous organs falling out of the wound. Jack stood to see Newt throw a grenade from behind her cover, pieces of the frag grenades safety mechanism falling beside her. A blue bolt of Plasma scraped against her gauntlet as she threw the grenade, causing for her to quickly retract it. "Shit! Grenade," She yelled as the grenade sent shrapnel shooting out around the battlefield.


	7. Fight Or Flight And A Touch Of CQC

Dev snapped out of his impact induced confusion, standing to his feet. His first sight upon standing was a team of Grunts exploding into chunks of flesh varying in degrees of hardness. Blood and armor showered the surrounding Elite's who had their shields shattered by the explosive. He watched Jack charge a Zealot without thinking, shouldering his Battle Rifle. The ODST threw a punch into the face of a Alien, but it didn't faze the Veteran Zealot, it's hand quickly wrapping around the Marine's throat. A chuckle escaped the Zealot as it drew it's Energy Dagger by his side. Jack kicked and punched some more as the Zealot yelled a war cry in the face of the ODST out of murderous anticipation. The ODST drew the Dagger from his back and stabbed it into the Elite's mouth, blood sprayed from the wound onto the ODST's glove and BDU, pooling in folds and spilling out with each slight movement of the ODST's arm, ending the Zealot's victory screams. It was an unrelenting stream, even as the Warrior stiffened and released the soldier, falling to the ground. Jack fell to his feet before he looked up at the 3 other Elites, who's attention were trained solely on him. He pulled the Magnum from it's holster on his thigh as he prepared for a fight for his life, training it on the group of Aliens. He shot an Ultra in the dome as it's shield was about to regenerate, the only one his gun could move to first. The shot punched a hole through it's head as blood and brains flew out of the entrance and exit wounds, coating his brother's regenerating shields and the ground with the purple and light tan mix of the insides of it's head. The Ultra fell, it's legs and arms stiffening as it fell face first into the mud below, the Minor behind him jumping over the slumped corpse seeking revenge for the death of the high ranking ally. Jack started firing into the Minor's shield as he backed away from the Ultra quickly approaching him. He spun around a kick from the Ultra into a crouch underneath the Elite's extended leg, stabbing his knife into the Ultra's ankle, severing it's achilles tendon. Blood blew out of wound in small specks all over his armor as the Ultra cried out in pain. The Ultra fell over as Jack looked up to the Minor shooting a Plasma round into the ODST's vest. Grunting, Jack emptied the rest of his clip into the Minor's shield, retaliating against the Minor's assault, popping it. The Minor threw the Plasma Rifle into the ODST's chest upon realizing it's potential doom, sending the Marine onto his back, his knife landing 6 feet away. The Minor grew hyper-aggressive, jumping to the ODST, drawing his Energy Daggers. The ODST picked up a rock beside him as his only weapon, and brought his body up. Jack swung the heavy rock and smashed the rock into the Elite's head. Blood covered the rock and the emotionless visor of the ODST who swung the rock again into the Minor's head. The minor fell to it's side, fruitlessly shielding it's head from the Marine's onslaught of attacks. Jack crawled to the Minor, bringing the rock up above his head down onto the Elite's skull several times, blood erupting from cracks in the helmet until eventually the Minor entered a seizure like state; uncontrollable shaking and foaming from the mouth as it began to succumb to the inflicted brain damage. Jack brought it down one last time with all his power, shattering the rock and forcing the Elite's right eye to pop out of it's socket. Blood surged out of the Elite's nose and eyes as the Elite's brain was completely destroyed. Jack stood up, panting, turning to see the Ultra trying to stand, and walked towards the Plasma Rifle that the Minor struck him with. He fumbled with it, not knowing how the weapon's mechanisms worked. He figured out the firing system (eventually) and began pouring shots from the Alien Rifle into the Ultra's head, burning through the tissue.

Emile brought the charging Officer over his shoulders, using it's own momentum to pull the Officer into the his arms. The Elite struggled as it was brought into the air, attempting to escape the Spartan's death grip. It thrashed violently as Emile dropped his arms, the Elite falling over his knee, shattering it's spine. It screamed out something in it's native tongue before it fell limp to the ground, it's body twisting at the break, it's legs facing backwards when it finally settled on the ground. Emile stood up and unlatched the Shotgun from his back before pointing the barrel at the face of the Elite on the ground with one hand. He realized it'd be a lot more painful for his opponent to be permanently disabled and mangled, dying on the floor 'like a dog,' as he put it, then the merciful death he was about to give him. He hesitated before finally turning to see another Elite returning fire to one of his teammates. He casually walked to the Elite who turned to face him at the last second, a surprised yell rang out from the Elite. "Knock Knock," Emile said as the Shotgun slug entered the Elite's head, sundering the helmet on it's head, warping and twisting the metal of where the slug had entered it's head. The blood from inside the cracked head splashed up onto the barrel as the metal projectile blew into the Ultra's skull, Emile chuckling as it did so. The lifeless body slumped up on it's cover, causing Emile to push over the twitching corpse with his boot. Dev realizing the incoming fire had ceased, jumped to his full height to return fire, but only saw Emile. They looked at each other for a moment before Emile presented his favorite gesture; the middle finger. Dev sighed before going to assist Noble Six. Six was pinned by the wielder of the Fuel Rod Cannon; a general with a brilliant gold armor. Dev climbed up the rock behind him to attempt an ambush, where he found Jack doing the same. They nodded to each other and began to sprint up the sloped rock behind the general, both launching themselves into a tackle as he Golden Elite turned to face the ODST's. All 3 soldiers fell off the rock and on to the ground below, where Six hopped on top of his cover, awaiting an opportunity. The General threw Jack into the rock to their right and kicked Dev off, the Marine landing on his back, rolling on to his chest. Before the General got to his feet, Six jumped off his perch, bringing the full body weight of the armor down onto the General's stomach, before Six unloaded the clip of his Assault Rifle into the General's head, popping his shield and killing him. Six looked over at the recovering ODST's, kicking the Fuel Rod over to Dev. "Oh, shit yeah," he said, obviously excited as he pushed himself off the ground. He struggled with picking up the heavy Covenant weapon and hoisting it onto his shoulder, managing to do so despite the weight. The firefight had ended with the death of the General, the band of UNSC soldiers regrouping in the middle of the battlefield. "Woooh, That was one hell of a fight, wasn't it," Newt said, beginning to pull off her helmet. "Wait," Six said, hastily slamming her helmet back down onto her head. Not a half second later, a Needle Rifle shot had lodged itself into where her exposed skin had been previously. Six turned, and with his free hand aimed and shot a distant Jackal who was the offending Sniper. Six turned and nodded to the ODST commander, who pulled her helmet off to assess the damage; the bottom lip of the helmet held a pink needle, cracking the helmet's outer shell, almost puncturing the inner layer. Emile shot Six a look, fully aware of why he did that. Six returned the look before reloading his DMR.

Sorry for the short chapter my dudes, a longer one should come out soon.


	8. Into The Valley Of Death

Six pulled himself over the rock's ledge, finding his footing on top of the rock. Lightning shocked in between the blood red clouds, passing and mixing throughout them. Rays of the distant sun poked through the dust of the ravaged world's destroyed atmosphere, lighting the ruins. Six looked down at the valley below; remnants of the military force that was once stationed here on Reach littered the valley, some broken apart and spread out, some relatively intact, but scavenged for important hardware. His eyes landed on a purple Covenant craft deep within the crater, tiny soldiers still filing out of it. Six motioned with his fingers to the group the number of units as he scouted the area. He counted 12 through the scope of his DMR before they finished leaving the craft; 9 Elites, 3 Brutes. Six shouldered his rifle and drew his SMG and flipped the red safety on the small weapons left side, bringing it up from at his side, ready for combat. The DMR and Assault Rifle lay clipped on his back, crossing over each other in the magnetic holster as Six backed up to the edge of the rock. "What are you doing," Newt asked as she tried to stop the Lone Wolf. Six sprinted to the edge of the rock and jumped down to the valley below. "Leave it, he knows what he's doin'," Emile said flatly as he continued through with the formerly intact plan. Six slid down the wall of the cliffside, readying his weapon with his free hand. He jumped off a protruding rock, launching the Spartan III into the air. An Ultra looked up to see the falling Spartan land on his head, the white armored Alien crumpling under the weight and force. Bones fired out from the exposed skin, exposed by the ripped and cracked armor and undersuit, blood following suit from the wounds, a shockwave of purple blood spilling out from each tear.

The Super Soldier looked up to see the shocked expressions of the two Jackals, who pulled their red Energy Shields in front of them. Six dodged a stream of green bolts, jumping from his left and right avoiding the blasts, some splashing into his energy shield, emerging between the two from a roll. Six jumped up onto the right side Jackal's shield, the Jackal beginning to fall onto the ground. Six jumped over the Left Jackal, firing the SMG into the Jackal's head before it could look up and react, it's snout breaking and twisting as the nose pointed upward as it fell, blood and miscellaneous pieces of the Jackal's muscle and skin flew into the air with a brilliant purple bubble surrounding the bullet holes. Six grabbed the Jackals shield gauntlet arm as it fell to the ground, holding up the Energy Shield as the second Jackal fired it's Plasma Pistol towards the Spartan, the green plasma degenerating the shield's vitality rapidly. Noble Six picked up the rest of light Alien's body and threw the corpse at the remaining Jackal, sending it to the ground with it's dead comrade falling limply on top of it. Six grabbed the downed Jackal's left leg and dragged it toward him. The Jackal screamed in terror as Six slammed his fist into the avian Covenant's nose, the Alien's face began crinkling into a flattened knob on the rest of it's head under the force of the Spartan's punch. Blood escaped the swollen and shattered nose and mouth of the Jackal as the bright purple liquid flew onto the Spartan's visor and 5 feet above the two. Bones stuck out from the Jackal's skin as it's squawks devolved into soft horrified grunts, the crushing of the Alien's facial features disabling it's main forms of communication. Six retracted his fist before sending it back into the Jackal's face, ending all the Alien's pleading squawks and sending the Avian into a twitching fit as Six stood up, looking at the blood pooling around the Alien's head as the twitching came to a slow stop. Six looked around and ducked into an adjacent corridor from a fallen ship.

Emile lead the group of ODST's around the edge of the valley, a task he despised having but continued doing to ensure the success of their mission. If they failed, it would result in all of their deaths, Spartan and ODST alike. Despite this, he wished he could be down in the valley with his fellow Spartan but shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind. He held his fist up to order a halt as he crouched down,The ODST's jumping to the rock to their right, mirroring his crouched stance. Emile drew his Kruki from his pauldron and shouldered his M45 into the magnetic lock on his back, stalking up behind a Ranger Elite. Emile jumped up onto the Elite's back, the Ranger letting out a grunt of surprise. Emile chopped into the Elite's neck with one vicious swing, almost decapitating it. The Elite's Spine stopped the assault of the Kukri, the blade stopping halfway through, but blood shot out of the severed veins as the open Trachea expanded and contracted rapidly, fruitlessly gasping for air. Blood spilled out of both ends endlessly of the sundered neck, covering the Elite's armor, Emile's arms and Knife, and the dusty ground below the two. Blood filled the Elite's airtight helmet, slowly draining as it emptied through it's throat. It staggered, the Elite's body still thinking itself functional before falling into Emile's arms, who dragged the corpse behind debris and out of sight. Emile, covered in the dark purple blood, kicked Jack the Beam Rifle the Warrior held in it's hands. The rifle fell beside the limp body, the ODST pulling the foreign, blood smeared weapon into his hands. He walked beside Emile, bringing the weapon's sights up to his eye as he layed down on his stomach to obscure himself from any potential sniper's view, Emile falling back with the squad of ODST's. He scanned the valley below, his gaze landing on Noble Six as he continued fighting his way through the valley, drawing the attention of the entire valley's Covenant forces. He looked across the valley at a small group of Jackal snipers adjusting their aims for the black armored Spartan. Quickly adjusting his aim, Jack shot the Jackal in the middle's hand firing hand, it's finger's spiraling out from the wound and blood dribbled down from the missing fingers' rightful place as it fell on to it's back. It cried out in pain and kicked it's legs as the Snipers split up, one going left, the other to the right. Jack trailed his shot on the Jackal closest to cover; the one on the left, and shot the right leg out from under it. It fell and slid on the rocky ground, it's hands immediately finding the burning wound in it's leg. Jack turned to see the Jackal on the right dive into cover behind a lopsided rock. Jack waited for the Jackal to peak through it's sights, confirming it's vicinity to the Covenant long range rifle. As a vapor trail shot over his head, Jack fired a stream of Plasma into the barrel of the Beam Rifle the Jackal held, and an explosion rippled out from the gun. The explosion sent seared flesh and a burning arm flying into the air, the muscle and artery overflowing with purple blood and blue flames. Chunks of the Jackal's harness, flesh, and bone flew out of the bright blast. "That's what I'm talking about!" Dev yelled behind him, readying his Fuel Rod Cannon. "Shut the fuck up dude," Newt hushed him, her index finger pushed against her mouth. Jack finished off the remaining injured with a headshot to the one with missing fingers and a beam to the chest of the crawling Jackal. After scanning the rest of the valley's borders for Snipers, he got up from his prone position, looking up to the Skull visored Spartan, giving him a nod.

Six grabbed the Needle Rifle's barrel of the charging Officer's hands, pumping the stock of the Alien rifle into the Elite's stomach. The Officer grasped his stomach as it vomited on to the dark dry soil, looking up to Six shooting two needles into the Elite's bare face, the hissing of superheated blood escaping the wound and evaporated blood leaking from the Officer's nostrils filled the air. Some blood escaped the holes from the needles, but not enough to create a pool like normal headshots would. Six turned to an Ultra, who grabbed the gun pointed at him, pushing against the Demon for control of the rifle. Six and the Ultra struggled against each other before Six kicked the Elite between the legs, crushing the organs situated there, permanently disabling them. The Alien recoiled and let go of the barrel, allowing Six to shoot multiple rounds into the Elite's chest, the shield exploding away from the Elite's body before the Needles began to lodge themselves into the Ultra's ribcage and surrounding tissue, toppling the Ultra over with blood spraying out of the wounds in thin streams. Six threw the now empty rifle like a spear into the face of an approaching Grunt, concaving the small Alien's face, displacing the situated flesh through small tears in the Grunt's skin in strips. As it fell, it's overcharged Plasma round splashed into a nearby Zealot's shield, the blue energy bursting in a blinding flash. Six drew his Magnum from his thigh and fired a shot into the Zealot's head. A purple mist fell out of the entrance wound as the brains and blood exiting the back of the dead Elite's skull blinded the Zealot behind the first. Six pulled his Assault Rifle from his back as he dual wielded the Magnum and Assault Rifle, sending burning hot lead into the approaching 3 Elites. He leaned back from an Energy Sword swing from the remaining Zealot, kicking it in it's chest, bursting it's shield. He fired his last Magnum round into the Zealot's skull, the gore inside it's head splashing out from the wound, the chunky flesh landing on the ground with a wet splat. Six ducked under another swipe of an Ultra's Energy Dagger, throwing the empty Magnum into the aggressive Ultra's leg. The Ultra fell to the ground and Six punched the offending Ultra in the back of the head, rendering it unconscious and cracking the Elite's faceplate. Six leaned against some cover and reloaded his Assault Rifle as shots passed his head from an incoming team. Six ran around the left side of his cover to flank the approaching squad. He sprints up behind the teams leading Elite and draws his Knife, burying the blade deep into the Elite's neck. Blood covers the last of the clean spots on his Visor as well as layering the already established coating of purple blood already on his shoulders. Six props up the lifeless body in his arms, placing the knife back into his holster as his hand wrapped around the Elite's neck. Shielding himself from the squads fire, fires into the group only about a foot or 2 away blindly. He pops a plasma grenade off the dead Elite's belt and throws it into the heart of the group and jumps onto his back, shielding his body from the blast with the corpse of the Elite. The heat from the explosion burned his legs even through the armor, due to the explosive going off right next to him. Blood, intestines, and shredded metal covered his exposed armor and the body above him, tearing the Elite apart. He pushed the corpse off him; the body now tinted black from the explosion and dust, the skin and muscle ripped out the back of it while it burned with a bright blue flame. Six got up, the dust starting to settle around him. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed his discarded Assault Rifle, ready to continue the firefight.


End file.
